When the Monsters Play
by Curiosity Killed Kristy
Summary: "Monsters have to feed off of each other, after all, Shizu-chan."


**Genre: **Angst/Romance

**When the Monsters Play**

**By Curiosity Killed Kristy**

**Author's Note: **I wanted a fic where it showed these two develop their hate all the way back to when they were babies! Not just from when they were in high school. A lot of shit's different on here than from what the manga/anime portrayed it, so I guess this is AU, lol.

Be prepared to expect a bit of an obsessed, little Izaya for our Shizuo. But, the obsession doesn't border on creepy… I think :x Trust me, it won't be creepy DX Just read it! GO GO! :D

**Disclaimer: **Do not own Drr (Alliteration, what?)

**Warning: **Cursin' and sexin' (and violencin'? o.O)

"Shizu-chan, let's play."

He had hated the raven-haired swindler from day one. His parents had thought the flea to be 'smart' or 'polite' but Shizuo had never seen that side of him even once, ever since they met when they were seven. Namely everyone he knew since birth had fallen for this louse's lies, including his brother, Kasuka.

They'd have the flea's family over for dinner at least once a week, and everyone around him would exchange conversations and smiles, and he'd be the only one left out of the bunch. His parents would seat him exactly one seat away from the spawn of the devil itself, and that damn flea would smile ever so innocently while his parents hung around. Then once they were far and away, Izaya would steal his pudding whenever he wasn't looking, poke him incessantly beneath the table, even kick him if he felt daring- little, childish things that nearly caused Shizuo to see red.

And now, the flea was at his antics again, asking him if they could 'play.' But knowing him, the flea would probably just kick dirt in his face and act as if the wind blew it, or even frame him for doing something he never did, which Izaya had done so many times that he couldn't count it with ten fingers anymore.

But since they were both at school, Shizuo didn't have to be nice. His parents weren't around to goad him into forming a friendship and weren't around to scold him for bad manners. "No," he had simply put it, knocking the two colorful trucks in his puny fingers together.

Izaya's smile grew wider. "Shizu-chan, let's plaaaay," he drawled, plopping himself beside the brunet and digging his fingers underneath the sand.

"Go bother someone else, you flea," Shizuo growled out, scooting himself a few distances off. Shizuo continued to play with the toys he held, trying to flush the flea's voice from out of his head to concentrate on the scenario he was playing out. _Think about the cars, Shizuo. Car one's driving onto the lane, when Car two-_

"Shizu-chan, if you don't play with me, I'm gonna tell everyone your big secret." This effectively halted Shizuo's running script in his head, the seven-year old feeling goose flesh sprout on his arms and legs, and it wasn't from the weather. _What secret?_ He swallowed, and bunched his eyebrows together; trying to make the ugliest grimace he could muster.

"I don't care," he hissed out, spinning around to rid his eyes of the unyielding, crimson-eyed mastermind. _After all, the only thing Shizuo ever had to hide was that he still slept with a teddy bear. The flea couldn't possibly know about it. _When the continuous pestering of his irritating nemesis stopped, he thought that had been the end of it. _Now, back to the cars. Car two wants to speed-chase a taco truck-_

"Everyone, Shizu-chan-" Izaya began with his two pale hands cupped around his mouth, "-still sleeps with-" he nearly ended until Shizuo intervened and wrapped a hand around his mouth. He felt his head steam with immensity- either from embarrassment or furiousness, he didn't know- when he felt one too many daggers of eyes locked onto the spectacle they were making. Teachers steered their eyes for a momentary second, confusion set in their brows.

But seeing how the two children were merely at their usual antics, the adults shifted their attentions back to the other boisterous, vigor-filled brats, causing a chain effect and playing their classmates into fast-forward.

When Shizuo was sure that the students had returned to chasing after each other, hiding from friends, making sand castles, and being just all-around pests, he couldn't have released Izaya from his clutches fast enough. "Get lost, you louse, or else." Shizuo shook with intensity, his hands balled into fists and nails nearly digging into his skin.

Izaya merely snickered at the display. "I just wanted to prove that I wasn't bluffing. Really, Shizu-chan, you should know better than to underestimate me," Izaya laughed, picking up and examining one of his many, plastic cars.

"Don't say things I don't understand…" Shizuo snarled between clenched teeth, feeling a sudden urge to hurt someone. To hurl _something._

Izaya laughed again. "Come on, Shizu-chan, play with me!" Izaya commenced again, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"… Shut up."

"Play with me…" Izaya continued, prancing around his quivering and hunched form.

"… Quit it!"

"Play. With. Me. Shi-zu-_chan_," Izaya mocked, leaning into one ear and smiling. "… Or else," he had said in a sing-song voice.

And everything had blurred the lines of reality, and in a blink of an eye, Shizuo had snatched his prized toy car from Izaya's hands and stomping it to the ground, the fragile toy snapped in half. Shizuo's bones and muscles drove him towards the slide, charged by an unknown electrical source, and in one guttural, instinctual movement, the slide was lifted from its bolted placement.

Frightful cries surrounded him, dashing children and panicking teachers to and fro, and out of everyone- only _ever_ the exception- Izaya stood, unshaken and smiling that devious smile Shizuo oh-so-loathed. Shizuo was given the special privilege of seeing surprise pass the child's face when he had lifted the slide, but it was immediately replaced with the conniving, unperturbed expression his rival always wore. As if seeing a seven-year old lift a metal slide was something he'd seen every day.

_He had enough of this brat. He just wanted him gone, _he thought angrily, and shifting the slide to have it better situated on his hands, he reeled it back, planning to bring it down when he heard the first crack pop in his left hand, then the second on his right, causing him to drop the slide merely two inches from the raven's feet.

Silence whirled around him, and although he could see the scurrying of his teachers and classmates, he felt cemented to the ground. He could feel his veins throb with the desire to kill, yet at the same time, he felt the throbbing of hurt in both arms. And as two teachers picked him from the ground and led him away, as children separated to give them room to walk, his eyes remained on the boy who was unfazed by it all.

About the toy car, about the slide, and about him.

**XXXX**

They spoke about things like 'avulsion fracture' or 'suspension' or 'counseling,' but it never really made any sense to him, nor did he care to find out what he it meant. He was only able to stare at white walls, white sheets, the two puke-green casts on his arms, and the shades that never really allowed sunlight to permeate the room.

And every now and then, he would be able to hear his parents conversing with some councilmen from his school or doctors that smelled of rubbing alcohol, and even when he grew tired of their restless mumbling and irritating attempts of inconspicuous chatter, his arms couldn't block their words no matter how much he willed them to.

_It was all that flea's fault, _he'd always chant beneath his breath, and sometimes, when his mother was around, feeding him or otherwise just taking up space in the room, he'd say it a bit too loudly. His mother would whirl at him, stare at him with eyes that threatened of confiscating his only source of entertainment- the T.V. that was- and then scold him nonstop about the subject he most definitely did not want to talk about, and of course, it was the louse himself.

"Izaya-kun is a very nice boy," she would emphasize. "He always wants to play with you, but you always push him away. I didn't raise you to be this way, Shizuo!" she would speak with vehemence.

And back then, he would always say, "But Mom, it's not me, it's Izaya!" but he'd long figured out that both his parents would only shun his words and punish him even more for blaming the very source of his Hell on earth.

But today, her words were different. They all meshed together in that colorful, bursting way of hers, but it was different altogether. "Well, you'll be glad to hear this then, Shizuo," she began, "Izaya's family is moving next week, and you will never see him again. Are you happy now?" she had asked.

He had only bowed his head, because if he showed how he _really _felt, he'd most likely get the T.V. turned off.

**XXXX**

It was during his eighth grade year that everything spiraled out of control.

The past five years had been uneventful- well, that was what he'd liked to have said. But, ever since lifting that metal slide, whenever he'd snap under pressure or anger, he'd heft an unnamable, bulky appliance, destroying _other_ unnamable, bulky appliances. Eventually, word flew around about his massive feats, and gangs from all around town came to challenge him and best him in the game of strength.

But in the end, he'd always won out, and got suspended for defending himself. It wasn't his fault that it always came out looking as if he provoked them, he cursed inwardly.

He even dyed his hair to keep their whiffs off his tail. And it had been working for a while, until this very day.

"Class, meet Izaya Orihara-kun. He transferred here from Russia not too long ago, and he is finally getting settled in. Please be kind to him for the duration of his time here," his teacher had gone on, but her words only entered through one ear and out the other.

He had been staring at the passive clouds, watching the trees sway about beyond the window he sat behind. He didn't exactly know why, but he'd been feeling this foreboding feeling in his system for nearly a week. And something told him that today the clouds weren't going to be as passive as they looked now.

He furrowed his brows at that. From where he sat, he heard his teacher drone about a subject he didn't care to listen to, little instances such as, "Turn to page…" and then the rest he zoned out on. Only when the bell rang did he resume breathing. He hefted his bag over his shoulder, making for the door, and when he heard the first crack of thunder behind him, he knew he should've listened to the weather forecast.

Students rushed about him, almost as if a mob, a sea of blue and white rushing around him to burst out the school doors before being pelted to death by raindrops. When most of his fellow pupil had cleared out at the shoe lockers, and he had already fastened the straps on his shoes, he realized that he forgot to bring the most vital component of his homework- the workbook.

He sighed to himself, already feeling irritation swell in his knuckles and tear through his muscles. And back to the stairs he once again traipsed through, hearing the eerie echo of his own feet and the pencils jiggle around in his bag. When he slid the door with a more than irritated exhale, he was shocked to hear the rain bombard outside, coloring the sky a dark gray with the occasional flash of yellow in his peripheral, and in that iridescent yellow two, familiar, crimson eyes stared at him through the darkness.

At first, he had thought it to be an apparition, but when the shadowy figure emerged from his inky corner of darkness and the pale skin began to peak through, he came to realize that this was indeed a person. He glanced at the purple, dangling book in the stranger's hand. "I believe you forgot this," the stranger spoke.

And strangely, Shizuo found that the first time those words were uttered, he already despised it. It was too sickly sweet._ Too familiar._"Yeah," he agreed, lending his hand out for the book to be passed over. The stranger extended his hand out to bestow it upon his awaiting hand, but as it hung there between them, for what Shizuo would surmise to be five deafening seconds, a smirk began to emerge on the pale male's face, and his hand retreated, hiding the book behind his back.

Shizuo's frown grew deeper with suspicion.

"For a second there, your awful dye job almost fooled me," that sickly sweet voice spouted with articulateness and superiority. "Did you really think that it would enhance your physical traits? How pathetic," he jeered.

Shizuo growled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The raven-haired teenager outright laughed at his obliviousness, leaning against the nearest desk to keep himself in balance, otherwise he'd have capsized in fits and fallen to his knees. "You mean you don't remember?" the individual smiled, cocking his head to the side with a maniacal grin on his face. "Well, I guess it was my own fault for ever expecting more from you," he sighed heavily, feigning dejection.

The blonde grinded his teeth. "If you keep talking bullshit like that, I won't be responsible for what happens to that mouth of yours," he warned, feeling his veins surging to life and his teeth nearly ripping the skin of his lips.

"Haaah, but it's unfair," the other continued, as if the threat Shizuo had just sprung out had never come to existence. "All these years, I've remembered your repulsive face," he jumped onto a desk, hopping over to the next one as if stones on a riverbed, "and how you lifted that metal slide, planning to end my wonderful days of living, while you on the other hand forgot about mine," and in that instant, the foreigner didn't seem so foreign anymore, and as they both stared at each other, one with bewilderment and the other with too much amusement to be considered normal, Shizuo's mind reeled back to replay those horrid memories of being held at a hospital for nearly a month, the endless chatter of adults and the one who caused it all.

"_Play with me, Shi-zu-chan,_" the raven slowed deliberately, balancing on one foot and leaning above Shizuo's head. When the blonde's eyes dilated even further, he smirked, lowering himself upon the desk, and zoomed in on Shizuo's scowl. "I wanted to see the face you made when I told you that," he whispered cruelly into his ear.

Shizuo heard something crack- either his knuckles, the desk he stood next to, or the thunder beyond the rain and wind. Really, it made no difference to him.

He could already feel the blood in his veins boiling, singeing everything that surrounded it- his bones, tissues, arteries; it was all rushing to one place and that was his fist. And when that same conniving, omniscient smirk spread like butter on the pale teenager's lips, that same smile that caused his parents to doubt him, the same smile that tore his ligaments and tendons as well as bones, the same one that awakened a monster inside him, the world grew eerily silent.

The thunder was muted, and the lightning nothing but a black, ragged pole in the sky. His muscles commanded his very movements, demanding that he crush the chairs; that he lift the desks in his way.

_Anything to obliterate this man._

As the desk he held aimed for his enemy's throat, he could hear it slicing through the air; could hear the desperate cry from his chest, and then in an instant, it grew quiet with the exception of the rain. He felt the first few stings blossom on his stomach, stretching all the way to his ribcage, at first bearable, but as he stayed rooted to his spot, he found it was growing more difficult to breathe. He trained his eyes on the red gash embedded into his shirt, to what he realized was his own blood seeping out.

The crafty raven smiled, retracting his switchblade from Shizuo's chest, licking up the trail of blood staining the knife. Shizuo growled, the desk falling from his grasps, his hands immediately pawing at the slash he was inflicted with. "Y-you bastard!" he roared, feeling the pain spread throughout his abdomen. He could feel the deep, blunt wound carved into his skin, and the more he thought of who it was created by, the more he wanted to shed the flesh that was upended. His fist's immediate destination was the raven's face.

But when his target ducked and darted underneath his arm, he stumbled from the intended force, nearly crashing into a group of desks. He grunted from impact, whirling around to face the smiley, red-eyed demon, said demon giggling from god knows what. "I see that you still have that ridiculous, monstrous strength, as well as the pea brain to operate it," he observed, shrugging his shoulders in disappointment. "But, again, I didn't expect more or less. It was great seeing you again, Shizu-chan. It was an immense pleasure…" he trailed off, twirling to the door, and sliding it shut so that his eyes were the only thing the blonde could make out. "… Just kidding," he whispered with a wink.

Shizuo bristled, and as if the raven himself commanded it, he raced to the door, ripping it from its separate counterpart. He glared down the path he assumed that his nemesis took, only to be met with nothing but pitch darkness and the occasional flash of lightning. He bit his lip, hearing his knuckles crack and tasting blood on his tongue. With his chest puffed up, and the veins in his wrists straining against their confines, with all the strength he could muster, he wrenched out the most guttural cry in his life, and that one word was "Izaya."

**XXXX**

His life had veered for the worse. Ever since the flea had returned, he couldn't sit still anymore. Just knowing that they were four desks away from tearing each others' throats out left him uneasy, yet at the same time expectant. And when that eventful fight did come, it was as chaotic as the last one, involving flying desks and swinging pocket knives. It had grown so bad that the teachers caught wind of it, as well as the students, the neighbors, and eventually, the gangs.

This had gone on for a few months. And even when parents and teachers intervened, something always, _always_, had to reverse the hands of the clock, and they were back to severing limbs from the other. Either it was from a trajectory glance, little, scheming smirks, or indirect remarks, everything about Izaya ticked Shizuo off.

_There was something wrong about him_, he would always think before going to bed. Every time the sinister raven-head glanced his way, or touched him with the cold silver of his knife, Shizuo would feel as if something wanted to possess him. As if the very being of Izaya alone wanted to seize his every movement.

And on the third month, he finally witnessed why this feeling had ever birthed itself within him.

Shizuo had been on his usual rampage, his sole purpose to omit Izaya's existence from this world. He was throwing punches, jabbing at nothing but air when each one was evaded, throwing trashcans here and there, and shoving anything else in his way.

_It had been the same_… until this very day, hour and minute.

He didn't exactly know how, and he didn't exactly know why.

"_Girls must be scared of you, Shizu-chan. You've probably never done anything like this or that before."_

He had drawn a blank after that statement had been made. He vaguely remembered countering those words with his fists, but in the end, Izaya had him playing into his very own game like a pawn.

He could hear soft exhales and rapid breaths echo in the bathroom; could hear his belt buckle scraping the floor with every tremor that racked his body.

Izaya knelt between his legs, bobbing up and down on his length, humming and moaning around him. He steered his eyes away, knowing how the flea's eyes were solely on him, watching his every expression, and trying to coax out the ones he wanted.

The blonde attempted to still himself, to stop his legs from their constant quaking, or his lips from muttering anything he might regret.

_But the flea was too good._

He chastised himself for even thinking it. The raven continued to suckle on him, only stopping at his head every now and then to slather him with more spit, before swooping back in with more exaggerated moans.

He held onto anything that was available in his reach; anything to avoid feeling such shame and pleasure. He threw his head back against the toilet seat, feeling his release approaching and Izaya's hollowed cheeks growing even tighter and swallowing him even faster.

He could feel his ears singing with blood, and could hear the sloppiness of Izaya's work as well as his constant, desperate breathing. And when he felt himself sully his rival's face, felt how the teen swiped his tongue over his head for one last taste, he felt as if the biggest fool in the world.

"How does it feel?" Izaya laughed. "How does it feel to be _loved, _you monster?"

After that, Izaya was switched to a different class, and avoided him throughout the rest of middle school, never glancing his way once.

**XXXX**

It was on March 14 of his junior year that he found chocolate stashed in his desk with a dangling note attached delicately on the plastic wrap.

He remembered how surprised he was to find something like chocolate being gifted to him by a secret admirer. He wasn't particularly popular with the ladies, and if he was, he wouldn't exactly know how to hold conversations with them for longer than one consecutive minute.

_Meet me behind the gym at the end of school, please, _the note read. He glanced around the classroom, searching for any peering eyes, but he couldn't make out any who were staring his way. All he could see were babbling teenagers, squealing and giggling over the most trivial things, male and female alike.

And he realized yet again how far apart he was from the rest of them, feeling a sense of unusual loneliness surround him. He looked at the note again.

_Maybe if I meet with this person, I'll finally experience being a real teenager, _he thought hopefully. He decided then that he would meet this girl. And when he heard the last bell ring out throughout the school, he clutched the note in his right hand, and tucked the boxed chocolates in his bag with the left.

A sea of blue formed around him as each student eagerly raced past, holding hands with their beloveds, dashing to close friends, and conversing unintelligibly.

_Soon, _he thought, _soon I'll be like one of them._

He trudged to where the gym was, feeling excitement and anxiety well where his heart was, fighting the urge to clutch at his throbbing chest. The note nearly ripped from such constriction, as he slowly curved the corner of the building, and from where he stood, he could hear the rustle of movement and clothes.

He peered around the jutting wall, and at the first signs of two individuals standing there, he hesitated, and hid himself instantly. He felt his heart patter even harder, and just to confirm that what he saw was real, he flicked his eyes over at the two teenagers, his heart freezing in his chest.

"But, someone might see us," the girl whispered.

"Don't worry," and at that exact moment, the male flicked his ruby eyes Shizuo's way, and closed in on her face, until their lips were touching. Shizuo clenched his fists, knowing that the whites of his knuckles were showing, and that the note he had been holding on to was crumpled and unreadable.

The blonde took off in the opposite direction, digging the pack of chocolates out of his bag, and growing more frustrated that he couldn't find it. So irritated he was, that he yanked the bag from his shoulders and chucked the entire thing into a trash can, the trash can keeling over.

And no matter how many times he ripped the note in half, he couldn't erase the victorious smirk on that flea's face. _Fooled ya, _it said.

**XXXX**

He could feel the Sun beating down on him even from under the shade of the awning. It flapped endlessly above him, the wind coaxing out the most intricate shapes.

Today was his last day as a senior, and he found that he wasn't particularly upset about that. Memories of his high school days weren't that fond to him, and he doubted they ever would.

He planned to move away from this town; to see the world, like his brother, Kasuka. When he first heard his brother was planning to become a movie star, he didn't really know what to make of it. But then, there his little brother was, living the dream and traveling to all kinds of places- places he could never reach even in a billion years.

He'd shaved off eighteen years of his life, stuck in this hell-hole town, accomplishing absolute nothing but the title of the strongest man in Ikebukoro. But in the end, he received no awards but his high school diploma; no trophies to display, no pictures taken with buddies or girlfriends, and no job or volunteering to speak of. He achieved nothing.

His ear perked up at the sound of the door hinges screeching, but he ignored it to the best of his abilities. But when that familiar, plotting snicker graced him, he launched himself from his laying stupor, eyes bewildered and fists blazing.

"Izaya!" he growled vehemently, striding to where the raven was leaning against the wired fence.

"Calm down, Shizu-chan. I'm not here to cause a fuss. I merely needed a breather, that's all." Shizuo froze in his tracks, replaying the words in his head, and hating how smooth it all was. Izaya laughed again. "What's with that face? You seem puzzled, Shizu-chan."

The blonde remained silent. Izaya harrumphed.

"You don't believe me," Izaya smiled. Something about it seemed off to Shizuo, but he ignored it.

"You only show up when you want trouble, so there's no reason for me to believe in you one second." Shizuo cracked his knuckles, hearing the violent pop of each one. "If you don't want your face disfigured, I suggest you leave," he warned imminently.

Izaya shrugged. "I only came here to tell you that you won't be seeing much of me," he smirked, "as much as it pains me. Buuuuut…"

Shizuo raised an eyebrow at that, seeing the smile on the flea's face widen. And before he could even dodge the attack, he felt an all-too-recognizable hiss of pain on his chest, and as the switchblade left his skin, he could already see the first stains of red dot the edges of the cut.

Izaya trotted back, cocking his head to the side, as if assessing whether it was deep enough or not.

"Since I'll never forget about your unsightly face, I won't let you forget who made that mark on your chest. An eye for an eye… right Shizu-chan?" he drawled.

But before Shizuo could retaliate, and before he could cause any bodily harm, Izaya had slinked off to God knows where, laughing and laughing.

"Don't miss me too much, okay, Shizu-chan?"

**XXXX**

"So… what you're telling me is that you don't have the money?" Shizuo snarled, his legs already launching him towards a nearby vending machine. The man quivered and begged with his eyes, but Shizuo was already far gone. The vending machine was lifted from its spot, and before his boss, Tom Tainaka, could stop him, he was already on his next rampage, chasing another late-paying imbecile around Ikebukuro.

Tom sighed, rubbing at the wrinkles on his forehead. _There goes another five-hundred dollars, _he thought tiredly.

Shizuo had been hired nearly six years as Tom's bodyguard, and the job had just somehow stuck. His previous jobs hadn't gone as planned, each one ending in failure due to his short-fused temper and incredible strength.

After the man coughed up what little money he had in his pockets, Tom led Shizuo away from the mess, patting the blonde on the back as he did. "Come on, let's go."

Shizuo sighed, reaching for his pack of smokes, and lighting one up. "Sorry. I know the bank's gonna have to pay again," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it. What's done is done," Tom disregarded with a wave of his hand. Shizuo felt the smoke slither down his throat, feeling parts of him beginning to relax. But as he and Tom meandered their way through Ikebukuro's alleys, he couldn't help but feel someone watching him.

He stopped to momentarily glance at a nearby building, hearing Tom's words enter and exit from his ears, but not quite discerning what those letters were. He saw a flash of black somewhere on the roof, but it was gone as fast as it came.

**XXXX**

Shizuo sighed. Another day, another dollar, the saying went. _But to him, it was more like another day, another pain in the ass._ He traipsed through the outskirts of Ikebukuro, aimlessly wandering to cool his head. _There were only so many idiots he could take in one day._

He chucked the fried cigarette from his lips, extinguishing the fire with his foot and hearing it hiss from yesterday's rain. _Speaking of rain, _he thought, steering his eyes toward the sky.

"Damn," he muttered, seeing how gray the sky was. "Guess I'd better head back." He scratched at his hair, regretting that he didn't pay attention to it sooner. As he walked the way he came, he kicked the rubble beneath his feet, when again he felt the strange feeling that he wasn't quite alone in this part of town.

He stole a glance behind him, but nothing but the wind greeted him.

"You're looking the wrong way, you know."

He jolted from the sudden voice, whirring around to try and pinpoint where the random individual was. But again, there was no one.

The anonymous male chuckled, Shizuo's ears picking it up but his eyes still seeking to be graced with the presence of a person. "Over here," the voice instructed and he did as it told, and immediately, he felt regret wash over his entire being.

"Well that took you long enough," the man smiled, pushing himself from the adjacent, brick wall and stepping away from the shadows. "Doesn't this feel nostalgic?"

Shizuo squinted through the glare of the Sun, baring his fists and feeling the rumble of anger already simmering in his chest. Even his sunglasses weren't helping. He took a step closer, but even then, all he could make out was the black of the man's clothes.

"Really now, Shizu-chan, this is getting pretty old." Shizuo stilled instantly, the ring of that despicable nickname rolling off of this man's tongue making him cringe. And as if nature were beckoned by this man alone, the gray clouds hovered to where the Sun was, and beneath the dark pillar, he could finally see who this character was.

"It's sad, really," the raven sighed. "After I had gone through all that trouble during graduation to leave that scar, and you still forgot me."

"Izaya…" Shizuo mumbled below his breath. "You bastard…"

Izaya snickered behind his palm. "Did you miss me?"

"Like hell I did! You said you wouldn't be in Ikebukuro anymore!"

"I said that you wouldn't be seeing much of me. I was simply in Shinjuku, minding my own business these past six years, going back and forth to Ikebukuro. I didn't exactly say I was leaving. I just said you wouldn't be seeing me; make much of a difference to you now, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo snatched the cancer stick from his mouth, ripping it in half, and tucking his sunglasses underneath his bow tie. "Well, whatever the reason," he smirked, "you're here now, which means I can kick your ass, right?"

Izaya smiled, flicking his switch blade from his Eskimo jacket. "I didn't exactly give you permission, but you won't listen to reason, correct?"

Shizuo harrumphed, his arm reaching out for the nearest projectile, and it just so happened to be a rusty stop sign. The iron protested against his hand, as he ripped it from its lower half, returning his gaze to the man he'd waited so long to kill.

And akin to the olden days, he screamed the raven-head's name so loudly that it reached the heavens and caused the birds perching on lamp posts and wires to flee for their lives.

He chased the louse throughout Ikebukuro, hurling any inanimate object he could find, and each one was jumped over or outran. "Izaya!" Shizuo shouted, hearing it echo back at him, and while everyone stared in bewilderment and heard his outburst with wide eyes, the only person who seemed unaffected by it was none other than the one he was calling out for.

And even when it rained and stained everything on the streets and buildings, he chased the flea to the ends of the Earth. Only when his hair had gotten so wet that it matted down over his eyes did he stop and let the rain wash over him to catch his breath.

**XXXX**

Each and every day, the louse would return to Ikebukuro, and the same conversations were exchanged.

"I told you to never return to Ikebukuro, you damn flea!" Shizuo would spout.

"Unfortunately, I don't listen to protozoa," Izaya would reiterate. Then, they would proceed to go at the other's throat, neither one pulling back an inch. Today was not an exception.

As Shizuo and Tom weaved their way through town on their next collection, the blonde stopped to momentarily sniff the air. Tom halted in his footsteps, raising an eyebrow, when it came to him that this particular part of the day was when _he _came. He sighed, adding the numbers up already.

"Something smells like shit," Shizuo muttered lowly. Tom just shook his head.

"Go on," he waved off, his bodyguard not missing a beat. The blonde followed the stench in the air, going through pathways he'd long ago ventured through, and passing oblivious pedestrians.

"Oh! Shizuo! Have some sushi!" the Russian sushi chef, Simon, called out, holding dozens of flyers in one hand. Shizuo, too wrapped up in his chase, hadn't heard one letter leave the tan male's mouth.

And just a few distances off, exiting Russia Sushi, was the one man he'd wanted to see, yet at the same time did not want to see. "I-za-ya…" he began in deliberately broken syllables. The raven brought his eyes to where his name had been uttered, looking smug and just all-around irritating.

Shizuo growled, knowing that Izaya had planned for this meeting to happen. Passersby quickly dashed away from the scene, knowing the fight that was about to ensue.

"Oh, Shizu-chan, I didn't expect to see you here," Izaya sarcastically droned, balancing the box of sushi to his other hand.

Shizuo growled with warning, the information broker the least perturbed. "What did I say about you coming to Ikebukuro?" Shizuo reminded, already in the process of hefting a vending machine from the side of a building. Izaya just smiled.

"Sorry, Shizu-chan. I'm on a very rushed schedule today, so I'll play with you some other time," the raven teased, already spinning around to rid his eyes of the brute.

"Get back here, Izaya!" Shizuo yelled with finality, hurling the soda machine towards an unsuspecting raven-head. But the attack was quickly deflected when Simon blocked it with his enormous frame, skidding from impact.

"Shi-zu-o, fighting always bad!" Simon began to lecture.

"Shut up, and get out of my way!" Shizuo demanded, seeing how the little flea was already a ways off, clearly grinning at the spectacle. "Izaya, get back here!"

At the cry of his name, the ruby-eyed mastermind took off, the blonde hot on his trail and waving another wrenched stop-sign from the road. He curved corners, cut alleyways and broke through crowds, but neither tactic worked out in his favor.

_But then again, he had Shizuo right where he wanted him,_ Izaya thought slyly. The barbarian was still swinging the stop-sign as if an ax; the information broker found himself rolling his eyes at that. _Just one more turn._

When he reached the opposite side of the street and skidded to a stop, as did Shizuo, confusion shaping his eyebrows. Izaya glanced over his shoulder, and when Shizuo saw the triumphant smirk plaster on the skinny man's lips, Shizuo felt himself glide through the air, and from what, he didn't know.

He heard a few of his bones crack during his journey down the road, and as he slowed to a stop, it was one of the first times he ever felt numb. People began to talk amongst themselves, and he could hear phones clicking away.

"_Shizuo Heiwajima lost!"_

"_Should we call the ambulance?"_

"_He was just outsmarted by Izaya Orihara!"_

He couldn't even find the strength to be angry. The tip of his cigarette's fire died, his eyes wandering the streets, and seeing a two ton truck parked where he had just been standing. _Oh, I got hit by a truck, _he came to realize.

And as he heard the sirens, and felt the lights flash into his retinas, his eyes remained focused on the man who caused his downfall. As he was led away from all the chaos and all the chatter, he saw the brunette leer at him before the blackness swallowed him in its tumultuous typhoon.

**XXXX**

He awoke to the sound of beeping; could smell the antiseptic and alcohol, and when he opened his eyes, light immediately invaded his senses, causing him to flinch.

He grunted from the exertion that put his body through, realizing that he was unusually stiff, and when he glanced down, he noticed that he had been patched up and bandaged.

He felt somewhat at ease knowing that he hadn't completely died, but when he saw that he wasn't locked within the familiar white rooms of a hospital, that ease he felt had all but disappeared.

He surveyed the room, taking in its spaciousness and modern furniture. _He didn't remember ever associating himself with such a coddled and luxuriant acquaintance._

"So you're finally up, Sleeping Beauty," a voice interrupted. Shizuo snapped his eyes to the origin of the voice. Immediately, he was seized with the intent to kill.

"Izaya, what are-" he began.

"What am I doing here? Shouldn't you be asking why _you _are here, Shizu-chan?" Izaya countered.

"Get out of here, you damn louse," Shizuo warned, straining against the gauze that held his body together. He winced when he pulled a tender muscle at his side.

"Such tactlessness. And here I went the higher mile and paid for the fees you couldn't afford. Appreciation would suffice," Izaya informed, sauntering towards the bed and stealing a spot on it. The blonde inched away instantly.

"I didn't ask for your damn money," he rebutted.

"Oh?" the raven inquired, a devious arch of his brow quaking Shizuo inwardly. "Then I suppose… you won't need this anymore?" Izaya pointed his pocket knife at the IV drip, twirling his personal dagger between his fingers like a plaything.

Shizuo's eyebrows knitted at the threat. "So what?" he goaded.

Izaya chortled. "I thought you might say that," he beamed with iniquity, the bed moaning in objection as he hefted himself and draped his legs atop Shizuo's lap. The blonde stared with great disbelief, frozen and baffled. "Then perhaps, you could do without this?"

The information broker stroked Shizuo's Adam's apple threateningly with his switchblade, no amount of remorse or bluffness shown behind his sinful, scarlet eyes. Seeing the look of incredulity and anger pass over the blonde's face made Izaya chuckle with delight. "I hold your very life in the palm of my hands, Shizu-chan. You've just never realized it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Shizuo felt the tip of the knife scrape his throat with each word he spoke.

"Think back, Shizu-chan. The gangs, your previous jobs, your lack of life, and your broken bones," Izaya listed off. "All of these happenings leading to where you are today were all planned out by me. Don't you see that you've been my long-time experiment, Shizu-chan?"

"Why the fuck is it me!" he cried, and although he knew it would hurt to yell it out, his frustration was getting the best of him again._ What the hell did he ever do to this man to ever make him go to such lengths?_

Izaya smiled even wider, bordering on nearly insane. "Why… Because I love humans," he answered. "Humans are the most intriguing beings in this world. They cry, they laugh, they despair, they hope, they love, and they hate. Yes, simply put, I _adore_ the human race."

Shizuo gritted his teeth. "What does that have to do with me?"

The blonde hissed when the tip of the knife finally ran its jagged cut down his throat. "Shizu-chan, you're a monster. Wouldn't you agree?" Izaya questioned, staring at the blood that slid down the length of his blade, watching it go until it committed suicide and plummeted onto the white bed sheets. "Therefore, since you are not human, I _hate _you."

Shizuo remained stock-still, unable to move a budge or merely even breathe or blink. The knife held at his throat was back at his wound, carving even deeper into the skin. "Then what the hell are you waiting for? End me!" he commanded, the dagger finally reaching bone.

Izaya paused, as if assessing the words, and weighing each one carefully on a scale. But in the end, the same smirk that Shizuo loathed to the pits of Hell returned, and he was half sure it would never disappear. "Not quite yet." He ran the side of his switchblade over Shizuo's lips, the blonde tasting his own blood. "Tell me, Shizu-chan, has your lips ever stolen another's?"

Shizuo only glared on. Izaya chuckled.

"I'll take that as a no. And I suppose this," he grinded his hips, causing Shizuo to grunt involuntarily, "has never been laid a finger on since I last left it?"

"Just what the hell are you planning to do?" Shizuo attempted to speak through the constant gyrating of the lithe male's hips.

"I've already broken your bones," Izaya spoke through his suckling of the blonde's neck, "so I decided that I would _crush _your mind, as well."

And it was much like the first time they ever committed such acts. Shizuo was swept into the tornado that was Izaya, the little raven's lips leaving marks on his skin, and if the gauze was in the way, he would cut them to pieces and treat the scars and fresh wounds with continuous nibbles and licks.

Shizuo shivered. "You're fucking sick…" he muttered helplessly, watching as the brunette advanced down his abdomen and continued all the way to where tiny, blonde hairs sprouted.

"Monsters have to feed off of each other, after all, Shizu-chan," Izaya mocked, outlining Shizuo's cock beneath the fabric, the blonde flinching in response. The raven closed his eyes, breathing against his arousal, with Shizuo struggling to operate his body; _to get away from this perverted bastard._

Izaya continued to pepper kisses and licks over his tip, the only inch of skin that had escaped the confines of cloth, while he prepared himself with the other, amplified moans not falling on deaf ears, and all of it going to the very source of Shizuo's problems.

And when the brunette deemed himself ready, he slipped the offending material off of Shizuo's lower half, as well as removed his own. "W-what are you trying… to do?" Shizuo asked through the haze he was feeling. He could feel the blood from his previous wounds pouring down his sides from overexertion, feeling himself grow numb once again.

But abruptly, the question was answered, and along that, his mind shut down, feeling the heat of Izaya's body engulf him entirely, and leaving no room to object or concur.

Izaya stilled for a few moments, swallowing intake of breath after intake of breath, his crimson eyes staring up at the ceiling. He began to laugh, clutching at his forehead, as if in wonder. "Don't you hate this?" he started, using Shizuo's stomach as leverage as he rose only to crash back down. "It's only natural that you would!" he chortled to himself, continuously riding the blonde's sex.

Shizuo grappled at the sheets, unable to decide whether to focus on breathing correctly, else he'd bleed to death, or allow the brunette to finish them both off. He stifled his voice, hating how the raven was massaging him in all the right places and making him dizzy in the best of ways.

_Your wounds are just affecting the coherency of your thoughts, Shizuo, _he repeatedly chanted in his head, trying to will away the perverse ideas blooming within his mind.

Izaya moaned endlessly, and it was obvious to Shizuo that he was only doing it to ridicule him; _to show that he was fucking the enemy. _The palms on his abdomen pressed into the cuts and bruises, pain and pleasure on the horizon, Izaya's blunt nails beginning to embed itself into his flesh.

The information broker leaned against his ear, gasping into it to show how much ecstasy he was receiving from this; to see Shizuo squirming helplessly, to see the hate overtake those golden irises. _He could finally see the hate up close, _the raven concluded.

But that minute of happiness was quickly extinguished when he felt his body tumble towards the pillows; witnessed an array of bed sheets shoot up like fireworks around him.

He stared, bewildered, at the injured man who switched their positions, and when he glanced at those golden eyes he loved oh-so-much, there it was, plain as day- _hate, malice, odium, repugnance._

Izaya grinned, the look of astonishment swiftly wiped from his face, as he thought up more colorful synonyms for hatred. "You really _are _a monster, Shizu-chan," the 23-year-old commented, and hastily disregarding it, Shizuo began to plow into Izaya's body, real moans finally escaping his mouth.

He mewled, whimpered, cried out and screamed, legs spread to the farthest extent, and thrusts nearly bone-shattering. Izaya seized as much oxygen as he could, but Shizuo left him no breath to rest.

_His strength really is something to be reckoned with, _Izaya found himself thinking as the bed shook uncontrollably beneath them, its headboard banging against the wall and causing a white shower of paint to shroud them.

Izaya hurriedly fisted himself, head thrashing and mind blanking out, focused solely on the incessant plunges of his rival, feeling the oncoming waves of his orgasm.

And when they both released and were gathering the wits that had flown out the window and the air that had once been restricted, they lay there, unable to move a muscle.

Izaya could feel the brute's blood stick to his chest, but didn't have the energy to complain about it. He felt both his arms still pinned against the pillows, knowing that both would be a nasty purple once they were freed from their clutches; could still feel Shizuo's cock wedged in his ass, predicting that the minute he took to his feet, it wasn't going to feel pleasant.

And yet in the end, it was all worth it. He smiled, knowing that the only thing that was able to see him was the ceiling. He could hear the shallow breathing of the blonde, noting that the older male was probably dead asleep from so much vigorous activity after just being discharged from the hospital.

"Humans flock to humans… and monsters flock to monsters," he thought aloud, feeling the first frown in years pulling at the corners of his lips. "I hate you so much… Shizu-chan."

**So, uuuh... wow, don't got a lot to say this time o-o (maybe it's because it's like one in the morning?) I hope you enjoyed my first take on this couple :x Hope it's not too bad. Maybe I'll write more about these two. I love them... too much, probably.**

**And since I wrote 8,000 words for you, can you please at least write ten words for me in the form of a review? *expectant***

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this crappy piece of prose, and cheers!**


End file.
